


Blackest Heart

by cassowarykisses



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: (at the time of writing), Alien Cultural Differences, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Dehumanizing Language, F/F, Gen, Post-Canon, Pre-Kismesissitude, Social Media, Speculation, Unrequited Kismesissitude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 12:17:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12132339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassowarykisses/pseuds/cassowarykisses
Summary: Trizza Tethis discovers she has a new social media rival. She doesn't take it well.





	Blackest Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Blackest Heart, in line with my previous Hiveswap story, Pumpkin Cravings, is also a Homestuck song. Go check out the albums if you haven't already!

Trizza is lounging on one of her luxury baby finbeast couches when she gets the Prongle notification. It’s a post Cridea reblogged, according to her huskphone. She doesn’t _like_ Cridea, or respect her enough to build up a proper hatecrush, but she follows her on an alternate account (the better to get material for her jokes, without actually acknowledging her).

It’s a picture – blurry but serviceable – of an _alien_. In what is clearly a block in an _Alternian_ hive. It’s got brownish skin and an ugly expression on its horrifyingly malleable skin. Is that supposed to be a smile? And where are its horns? They could be just out of frame, but her hornbases would have to be set awfully far back. Maybe they’re just humorously nubby, as befits an alien. That gets a smirk out of Trizza.

The caption reads, “i’m here! come and get me, trizza :)” Cridea’s added an “OMG,” just in case someone didn’t get the completely treasonous, hideously subversive, unthinkably rebellious message. This would probably be grounds to cull Cridea, but she’s fertile ground for memes. Trizza needs a good source.

Then she sees the notes. The post is two hours old, and already has over one hundred thousand reactions, climbing higher every second. Even her posts, with their drone-mandated quotas of hearts, haven’t been reaching these numbers. Worst, this means her latest selfie, the one she’d worked so hard to get the perfect backdrop for, is yesterday’s news.

Trizza clenches her fists. This just won’t do.

***

So she corners the alien.

It’s not hard to track the location of the post. xultan_matzos01 can only be one person. Don’t these dummies know about encrypted networks? It’s almost like they want to be caught, which would be right in character for the type of idiocy traitorous lowbloods get up to.

The imperial drones drag the two co-conspirators to her throne room. There’s the alien, and some no-name rustblood that she ought to cull on sight, but he might know something about more rebels, or how the alien got here. She can always throw him off the battleship, so his filthy blood doesn’t stain her hardwood floors.

But something goes wrong. Before she can get even halfway through her monologue about branding and the importance of a cohesive social media presence, the alien practically dances out the drones’ grip. With a couple well-placed pirouettes, the rustblood is free too. He grabs one of the downed drone’s tridents and gives the still-active ones a couple of stickball-perfect whacks.

And that’s it. Trizza is alone in her throne with a pair of advancing rebels.

“Don’t kill me,” she says, brandishing her huskphone like a shield. The alien, moving with surprising speed, trips her, and she falls, her huskphone scattering across the floor. Great. The chitinous cover is probably all cracked now. At least there’s no risk of dirt getting on her outfit, though she thinks she might’ve chipped a claw. Then the alien grins (she thinks), baring all of its disgustingly blunt teeth.

“Don’t worry,” it says. “We’re just here for your records.” Her records. All the intelligence she’s gathered on the rebel scum. And all Trizza can do is scowl as the rustblood sticks a datagrub into her husktop.

The alien bounces on its heels, and Trizza shoots it a dark look. “Don’t be such a Visser 3,” it says in response, and then adds, “That’s human for _sore loser_.”

“I think I’ve got it, Joey,” the rustblood says, standing up from the computer. “Uh. The serpent program is uploaded and ready to go.”

“The files won’t be a problem anymore?” the alien asks.

The rustblood shakes his head, shaggy hair flying up around his horns. “Nope. Just one last thing.”

Trizza doesn’t dare turn to see what that last thing is. It’s better not to face her inevitable death head-on, she thinks as she squeezes her lookstubs closed.

But it doesn’t come.

When she dares to open her eyes, the rustblood is on his way out through the throne room door. He’d better be some sort of psychic, or otherwise the escape pods would never respond to him. The alien – Joey? - is still standing over her. It holds out a hand.

Trizza hisses at it. “Why didn’t you kill me?” she asks, then hears the note of confusion in her voice and wants to cull her past self for wanton incompetence. It’s her favorite crime to charge trolls with.

Joey glares at her. “We’re better than that, in the rebellion,” it says. “We’re going to build a world without culling, for decent trolls.”

Trizza snorts. “Good luck with that.”

“Well, we’ve had better luck than you so far,” Joey says, and starts to walk off.

Trizza isn’t sure what to say to that.

When it’s at the door, Joey turns and faces Trizza. “Oh, and your pompadour sucks!” it calls out. It ducks through the door that the rustblood had gone through just a moment ago, leaving Trizza breathless on the floor.

She pushes herself up from the floor (ugh) and grabs her huskphone. There’s another notification on it from xultan_matzos-whatever, this time uploaded from Imperial wifi. There’s a selfie, featuring a rustblooded face grinning as the alien gives a thumbs up over Trizza’s toppled body in the background.

The caption reads, “we did it! X:)”. It’s been reblogged once, from a new follower of hers, mrstaylorthomas80. _That_ caption reads, “like shooting fish in a barrel.”

Trizza sees spades.

**Author's Note:**

> Featuring the return of my headcanons about trolls being weirded out by human faces and mouths!
> 
> Also, Animorphs wasn't actually released until 1996. But I can dream.


End file.
